


Save Me

by ziaminmypants



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 14:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziaminmypants/pseuds/ziaminmypants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry deals with all his problems in the form of cheap whiskey, while Niall tries to save him time and time again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: ziaminmypants

Music soars, bass thumping, over powering. There is meshes of bodies everywhere – flesh on flesh under seizing lights. Harry could care less as he flips his fake ID back into his pocket; best hundred dollars he has ever spent. Heading to the bar, he waves to the bartender and orders the cheapest whiskey they have. Once it’s in front of him, he downs it in one go, hardly flinching at the burn. Waving for another shot, he doesn’t bother to interact with the people around him; he’s here for the alcohol, not the company.

It’s his third time in a row in this bar this week, and so far things have worked out. He gets drunk, walks back to his shitty apartment, ignoring everything and passes out. As the bartender places his next shot in front of him, he raises an eyebrow at the not-so-legal boy. He’s seen him here in more recently. “Slow down kid.” Harry doesn’t plan on it.

+

Niall can’t believe he’s here. The bar scene isn’t him. He doesn’t go to clubs to basically dry hump on the dance floor. Sure he drinks, but not like this. It took him centuries to get in, seeing as he doesn’t own a fake ID like the rest of the eighteen year olds he knows. He has to bribe the bouncer with cash, an amount he care not to recount in his head, just for the five minutes inside to find his friend. The bouncer threatens to physically come in and throw him out if he’s in here a minute more. Niall pushes through the crowd until he finds the familiar mess of curls. “Harry.” He breathes a sigh of relief, tugging at his elbow.

Harry teeters a moment, slugging down the whiskey before turning to the familiar voice. “Hey,” he slurs happily to the blond.

Niall watches him take down whiskey like its water, he’s not impressed and it clearly shows in his face. “What are you doing? This is the fourth bar I’ve been tonight. Let’s get you home.”

Waving for another drink, Harry turns his head away, ”’M not ready yet.” He eyes the bartender, then looking down at the empty shot glass in his hand.

“Harry come on, we can drink at home.” He shakes his head, eyeing the bartender, daring him to give his friend another drink, before looking back at Harry.

Jerking his arm from the blond, he tries to stand, staggering and gripping the counter as the floor shifts beneath his feet. “Said I’m not ready yet.” He tries to wave, but stumbles a bit, closing his eyes and swallowing against the nausea.

Niall’s not having it, Harry might be drunk, but he still can overpower him. He takes his wallet out, taking out money to cover Harry’s drinks. “You’re done.” He says firmly, pulling him away from the bar without another word. He’s tired of playing these games with Harry.

Harry hangs on his friend, remembering why he was drinking to begin with. He feels a crushing sadness settle in his stomach. Tears pool into his eyes, “‘M sorry Ni” he stumbles when they get outside, feeling ready to throw up.

The blond doesn’t speak to Harry as he hails a cab for him. It only takes a few minutes before one pulls up, and they both get inside the cab. Niall tells the driver Harry’s address and when they’ve parked right outside; Niall pays the cabbie and pulls Harry out with him. He walks Harry to his door without a word, silently waiting.

Harry’s crying at his friend’s silence, sobering up a bit. He reaches a shaky hand into his pocket for his keys. Trying and failing to open the door, he bangs his head on the frame, just once, before holding the keys out to Niall.

Taking the keys, Niall unlocks the door for them and lets Harry in before following him. He walks to Harry’s kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and some aspirin. He offers them to Harry, his not meeting his eyes. He’s not happy with Harry’s choice right now, but he’s not going anywhere. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to stop this.” It all he says before heading into the living room.

Harry follows, like a puppy with his tail tucked between his legs. He crashes on the couch, rubbing his face. He takes the offered aspirin and water, eyes down casted in shame.

Niall sits in a chair, watching Harry for a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.

Shaking his head, Harry scrubs a shaky hand through his curls. “Yeah, ‘m good.” He wipes tears away and throws a pillow across the room.

The older male is used to Harry, they’ve been friends for a while now, but that doesn’t mean he likes the temper tantrums. He blinks, watching Harry. “You don’t seem good.” He stands, walking over to the younger boy. “There’s something wrong. What’s with all the booze and hangovers lately? Looks to me that you’re trying to run away from something; whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

Harry snorts; a laugh mangled on his lips. He thought his dad would be there for him too, but when he told him he wasn’t straight…he shook his head. “It’s nothing Niall; just releasing some stress.” He tries to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. He can’t even look at his friend without guilt – how are you supposed to tell your straight friend you’re in love with him?

Sighing, he plops down in the chair once more. Niall’s not sure what’s gotten into Harry but he’s concerned. He doesn’t understand why his friend is being so self-destructive. He wants to help but can’t because Harry won’t let him. “Alright, but I’m here when you want to talk.”

Nodding, Harry settles further down on the couch, turning his back to the boy. He expects him to leave as he falls asleep, comforted by his friends presence.

Niall stays in the chair, watching his friends’ back as he falls asleep. He stands up and grabs a blanket from Harry’s bedroom to throw over the sleeping boy. He grabs another blanket and a pillow, settling in the chair. It’s not the most comfortable chair in the world, but it will do for now.

+

Head pounding, fowl tasting breathe free Harry when he opens his eyes the next day. He burrows down, trying to remember the night before. He has a vague feeling of unease as he remembers flashes of drinking and then Niall. He groans, hoping he was just imagining his friend being there.

Stirring slightly at the sound of his friends moan, Niall opens one eye then the other as they are trained on Harry. “Morning sleeping beauty, how are you doing this morning?” he stretches as he pushes himself out of the chair, his body protesting as he was not sleep in a very comfortable position. “Need anything for that headache?”

Saliva pools heavily into Harry’s mouth when he jolts from hearing his friend’s voice. He scrambles to get up, but gets tangled in the blanket, dropping and heaving on himself and the blanket. He chokes more as the smell hits him.

Niall makes a bee line to Harry, careful not to get any mess on him, he pulls Harry up and helps him to the bathroom. He doesn’t say a word about the heavy drinking, just helps his friend, getting a warm, damp, cloth and cleaning Harry’s face.

Harry accepts the help, murmuring ‘sorry’s’ while he tugs his messy shirt off. Shivering, his body looks thin and frail under the stark, cold lights of the bathroom. Rubbing his face, he wonders if he could stand long enough to shower.

“Need help with a shower?” Niall offers, helping Harry strip from his clothes. He throws them in the sink, reminding himself to stick them in the washer before he leaves.

Nodding, Harry places a shaky hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Niall,” he whispers, “I don’t know what to do.” He looks away, being unable to bear the weight of Niall’s stare. The Irishman has done so much for him already. Tears slip from jaded eyes, trialing pale cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Niall says, moving to lift Harry chin so he can see his eyes. “I’m here, like I said. What are friends for? I’ll help you anyway I can.” He pauses, turning on the water as he still supports Harry. “What’s wrong? What do you not know what to do about?” he asks as he sits Harry into the shower.

Harry just shakes his head, shaking like a wet kitten. He steps into the falling stream. He falls silent, just breathing shallowly as steam fills the bathroom.

Niall sighs, striping to his boxers and slides in behind Harry. He grabs the shampoo and lather up to wash Harry’s hair, getting the mess out of his curls. He is silent as he rinses it out, grabbing the soap and washing Harry’s body for him. All the while, he offers his body as a support system for Harry to lean on when he sways dangerously. Once Harry’s all squeaky clean, he shuts the water off and grabs the towels, one for Harry’s hair and the other to dry his body off.

Blinking sleepily, Harry finds himself leaning more and more on Niall. “ ‘M tired.” He whispers, trying to keep his grip. He lets the blond dry and dress him, relaxing into the touch as he’s lead to the bedroom. Niall has to dodge all the empty bottles to get to the messy bed. A smell was present, but not overwhelming. Harry’s too tired to feel upset about the state of his room… well, apartment all together. He moans once he gets horizontal.

Niall tucks Harry in and sits on the edge. “What me to stay? Maybe fix you something when you’re feeling better?” He offers, giving him a sympathetic smile. He brushes a stray curl away from Harry’s face.

Harry’s hand squeezes his arm. “You probably have better things to do.” He curls tighter into himself, already slipping away.

“Never,” Niall says quietly. He stands up and looks around Harry’s room. He sighs before getting to work. He cleans Harry’s place from top to bottom, getting about seven garbage bags to the dumpster just with empty bottles alone. Afterwards, he relaxes on the couch, dozing off as he waits for Harry to wake up.

Harry wakes up shaking and anxious. He’s sweating bad, panting for breath, as his skin crawls. Sitting up is difficult, but he manages. Looking around, he’s surprised at how clean everything is. “Niall,” he bemoans, guilt punching him in the gut. “I’m a shitty friend.” He rubs his eyes with shaking hands. “Need a drink.”

Niall wakes up with a start; bad dream. He rubs his eyes as he hears rustling in the bedroom. He gets up, getting a glass of water and some more aspirin and walking into the bedroom. He smiles at Harry when he sees that he’s away and offers him the glass and pills. He stands there as he watches Harry take the meds.

“Thanks,” he has to hand the glass back to Niall quickly or risk dropping it. His stomach cramps and he doubles over a bit, closing his eyes against the nausea. “Need it.” He whispers to himself.

Nodding, Niall sits the glass down on the night stand. “Need anything else? Or do you need me to go?” Niall fiddles with the hem of his shirt, looking at the ground. He feels like he’s hovering like a mother, but he’s concerned, he’s never seen Harry this bad before.

Shaking his head, Harry frowns, “No, I’m good.” He rubs his eyes. “Sorry for this shit, feeling a lot better.” He lies. He needs Niall to go before he hits the bottle, he doesn’t want him to see him like this. He prays for death.

Niall’s face falls but he quickly fixes it. “Well call if you need anything,” is all he says before turning and walking to the door He heads home, but plans to visit Harry later so he can prevent this from happening again tomorrow morning.

Hearing the door close, Harry loses it. He throws things as hard as he can. Blanking out, it’s a while before Harry comes back to himself, breathing hard, tears streaming and surrounded by chaos. He’s ruined all of Niall’s hard work. Sobbing hard now, he drags himself to the kitchen, digging behind the cereal in the pantry, finally coming away with a bottle of Jack. He stares at it, knowing he’s disappointing Niall. He throws it, shattering it against the fridge. He finds his phone near his bed, needing him, needing Niall. He dials with shaky skills. “Niall! I need you! Please!” he sobs hard.

He’s getting coffee when he hears his phone ring. He answers it, seeing its Harry. “Hold on, I’ll be right there.” He exclaims, running out of the place with his coffee long forgotten, the only thing on his mind is getting to Harry. When he gets there, he turns the key to the apartment and calls out for him, “Harry?”

He’s faded into himself in the kitchen, shaking and rocking himself, pulling at his hair. The apartments a mess and there is broken glass littering the kitchen – it’s a miracle Harry hasn’t managed to cut himself. The kitchen smells strongly of Jack.

“Oh Harry,” Niall sighs, being careful on the glass. He pulls Harry to him, then picking him up bridal style because he’s the only one with shoes on, he carries Harry to his bedroom. He tries not to show his disappointment in his face at the state of the apartment once again, that’s not the point anymore, it’s Harry and getting him help. “Shhh…” he says, curling up with Harry on top of his bed, petting his head. “I’m here, everything will be alright.” He just wishes that he knew what was wrong, what happened to Harry to get him to act like this.

Harry clings to the blond, “It’s all wrong! I didn’t want this, Niall! I didn’t,” he’s crying and clutching at the other’s arms. “I just wanted to forget!” he buries his face, hiding from the world. “I’m so sorry! Please!”

Niall holds on to Harry, “What’s wrong? What are you trying to forget?” Harry’s scaring him, he’s afraid for his friend.

“He hates me!” he curls more into Niall, “He wants me dead.” He whispers, “My dad.” He shivers. Harry clutches the blond “Please!” he begs, “I’m sorry Niall, I’m so sorry.”

”Babe, why does your father hate you?” he tries to sooth Harry by stroking his hair.

“Don’t leave me, please,” he moans, shaking harder. He sobs for a bit before finally hiccupping out “he… he doesn’t want a faggot for a son.”

Niall almost cries himself. “You don’t need him. He doesn’t deserve to know someone as amazing as you.” He hugs Harry closer to him.

Harry wars between relief and guilt. “You don’t know though.” He knows that if Niall knew how Harry felt about him, he’d leave. The cramping in his stomach becomes worse. “Need a drink.” He moans.

“No you don’t.” he states firmly, “You either talk to me or we’ll get someone else that can help.”

“Hurts.” Harry moans, clawing at his stomach. He _needs_ it, wishes Niall could understand that. “Getting sick!” he gasps, feeling waives of cold crashing over him, saliva polling in his mouth.

“It’s no good for you. You need help Harry.” He sighs, leaning to kiss Harry’s sweaty forehead. “I want to help you, but you gotta let me in babe.”

Harry shakes his head, “Dunno, dunno what to do! It hurts too bad! Can’t think!” he huddles into Niall’s warmth, shivering in earnest. “Niall, what do I do?” he stares pleadingly as the blond, as though he has all the answers.

“I dunno Harry, talk to me? Tell me what’s going on? How can I help you?” Niall feels lightheaded; he doesn’t know what to do to help his friend.

All Harry can do is cling to his friend, and ride out the storm of emotions, eventually succumbing to and going under.

+

Shortly after Harry’s break down, Niall persuades Harry to go to a rehab clinc. It’s the best there is, Niall’s done his research. Months pass, good days and bad, but all the while Niall’s there by his side. There isn’t a day he doesn’t visit. Finally, it’s time for Harry to come home, but he still has a lot to do for a full recovery.

He is required to go to group meetings three times a day. Niall will drive him to those since Harry’s such in a fragile state. He’s also to stay away from the life he led before, nothing alcoholic, no bars. He is also required to start looking for a job, something small to work his way back into society little by little. All this, Niall’s made himself ready to help his friend anyway possible.

Taking a deep breath, Harry hugs his things to his chest, knowing Niall will be waiting for him. He feels cleaner, stronger, but he’s still afraid to leave, be bombarded by he left behind. Is this what convicts feel like after being released? He’s so fucking nervous. Walking out, he catches Niall’s eyes, smiling slightly.

“Hey buddy.” Niall throws an arm around Harry. He hugs him tightly as he can. He pulls back and takes Harry’s stuff. “Come on, let’s go home.” He walks Harry to his car, putting the bags in the backseat. “Anywhere you want to go before we head home?”

Shaking his head, he tugs on lengthened hair self-consciously, “Home, please?” he hasn’t seen his own apartment in a while; a little scared he doesn’t have a home to go to. He knows he’ll have to find a job, having been fired days before his meltdown being too drunk to function. He puts his thoughts away, only wanting to lie in his own bed.

Niall looks over at him rather guiltily, “So… I know you had your own apartment and everything, but I couldn’t keep it up with what I worked, but I kept it as long as I could.” He even went in debit trying to keep it for Harry. “I hope you don’t mind staying at mine. You’re welcome to stay there as long as you want. I’ll even help look for another apartment if you can’t stand it there.” He looks over at Harry. “I’m sorry.” He gives him a sympathetic smile, “I understand if you don’t want to though. We can stop by a motel room if that’s more appealing.” Niall’s rambling now.

Saddened that he’s lost that bit of stability, Harry still shakes his head to the hotel room. “No, please… let me stay with you.” He lets his hair hide his features, a spark of something – hope? – blooms in his chest. He can stay with Niall.

Nodding, Niall blushes, “Good, cause all your stuffs there already.” He confesses as he takes the car out of park and starts driving to his apartment. When they get to the apartment, Niall smiles at Harry, getting out, grabbing Harry’s bags and walks the younger boy to the door, unlocking it. He lets Harry go first before he walks in, dropping the bags at the inside of the door and closing it.

Harry stands, unsure of his place, “Are you sure?” he asks the blond, fidgeting with his hands. “I don’t want to put you out.” He wraps his arms around himself, feeling the urge to escape in a bottle of whiskey. He squashes that urge, determined _not_ to disappoint Niall.

“Of course I’m sure. You have your own room and everything. Hopefully I’m not a horrible flat mate.” He tries to lighten the mood. “Come on, let’s unpack you. I’ll show you to your room.” He takes Harry’s arm, tugging him along the hallway, opening a door and beaming at Harry. All of Harry’s things are neatly placed inside. “If you don’t like or want anything, we can throw it out and start fresh.” Niall offers, looking at Harry hopeful.

Leaning into his long-time friend, he feels hopeful that he can move past all of this. A few tears slide out and Harry turns to Niall. “Help me?” he waves to his things.

“Of course,” Niall smiles, going to get his bags and bringing them into the room, he puts them on the bed. He unzips them and smiles at Harry. “So what would you like for lunch?” he looks over at Harry. “I was thinking sandwiches then some sort of pasta for dinner.”

Harry invades Niall’s space more, nodding to both selections. He still has to be careful with his eating – he has been on a ‘liquid’ diet long enough to cause some problems. He moves around the room, putting things away and tossing something in the ‘to go’ pile.

Niall watches Harry carefully; afraid he’ll say something and ruin everything. He waits, just deciding to be here for Harry when and if he needs him.

+

Weeks pass, Harry comes more and more out of his shell. He hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since ‘the night’ as it’s been dubbed. He feels more comfortable in his own skin, never really doubting himself with Niall around. Flicking his longer hair out of his eyes, he comes to a decision. “Niall?” he waits for the boy to find a stopping place in the kitchen before continuing, “Cut my hair?” he pulls it back in a ponytail. “It’s too long now.”

Niall hesitated, “you want me to cut it? I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. How about we go somewhere a trained professional can. I’m afraid I’ll ruin it, or worse cut your ear off or something.”

Laughing at Niall’s facial expression, he still shakes his head. “I want _you_ do to it, Niall. I haven’t cared much what it looks like in a long while.” He comes closer, resting his forehead on the blond’s shoulder as they stand at the edge of the kitchen. “Besides, save us some money.” Harry’s still having a bit of trouble finding a steady job. The few that he’s had since getting out of rehab didn’t work out.

“Alright,” he says shakily. “Okay, grab the shears, I’ll see what I can do.” He smiles, walking to grab the trashcan and heads to the bathroom. He waits for Harry by leaning on the bathroom counter.

Having shed his shirt, he leans onto the door frame, staring at Niall. “Where do you want me?” he’s got the shears hanging from one hand, hair down and a bit tangled.

Niall takes the shears and nods to the toilet. He hands him a comb, “Brush your hair.” He wraps a towel around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry works the comb through his untamed tresses. It takes a bit, but eventually the comb runs from top to tip without a snag. “Ready!” he announces with a smile.

Running his hand through the soft curls, Niall nods. He sighs as he takes a snip here and there, careful not to take too much off at a time. Once he’s got it where he thinks Harry will like it, he stops. “Okay! Tell me what you think.”

Harry peeks into the mirror, breaking out in a huge grin. “Thanks Niall, you got it perfect>’ his eyes meet the blonds in the mirror, sparkling with a vitality that’s been missing a while. Standing, be faces Niall, “See? Didn’t need a fancy smancy hair cut after all.”

Laughing, Niall agrees, “Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right.” He smiles at his work, reaching out and stroking his hair. After a moment, he realizes what he’s doing and pulls away. “Sorry, just admiring my work I suppose.” His cheeks are bright red, “Err, so are you ready for something to eat or do you want to go somewhere?”

Harry, who had been leaning into the petting, enjoying it, stumbles as well. “Um, let’s stay in tonight and just watch movies on the telly.” Sometimes he can forget that Niall isn’t his, regardless of how much he wants to confess to the blond Irishman.

Niall nods, “Alright, you pick the movies and I’ll fix dinner. Anything requests?” he clears his throat, moving to clean up the mess he’s made in the bathroom. He tried his best not to watch Harry out of the corner of his eye; but he fails. He’s being so stupid and careless for what is best for Harry. “I’ll make anything you want.” He says, feeling a little guilty about the touching.

Harry frowns, confused, “Just some sandwiches, please.” He still has a bit of trouble eating more than a bird would. His body feels warm at how close he and Niall are standing. Suddenly afraid that he’s made the blond uncomfortable with his proximity, he backs off, panting down the hall, towards the living room.

Sighing, Niall finishes up in the bathroom and follows Harry. He meets him in the living room. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you earlier. I’ll start making your sandwich.” He gives a small smile and heads into the kitchen, washing his hands and getting out the materials he needs to make them. He comes back into the living room when he’s done with Harry’s food and a glass of water. “Here you go.” He sets it on the coffee table for him.

Harry giggles softly, “Thank you, man slave! Now bring your own food out here and watch tv with me.” He pats the space directly beside him with a silly grin.

Niall plops down beside him, “I already ate mine while I was fixing yours.” He reluctantly states, blushing. He eats when he’s nervous or doesn’t know what to do. In this case, he feels like he’s hurt his best friend. “Find anything on the telly?”

Getting comfy next to him, Harry nibbles on his sandwich making the effort for Niall alone. “There’s a maybe good horror coming up in five. Sound good?” Harry lets himself settle closer to his friend. “Thanks for the food.” He smiles at Niall, still nibbling. Niall knows Harry will take a while to eat all of it – it’s what he usually does.

“Yeah, sounds good.” He settles on the couch, getting comfortable as he watches Harry nibble on the food. “Er…let me know if you need anything else.”

Part way through the movie, Harry’s head has migrated to Niall’s shoulder and his arm is linked in Niall’s. “Niall? I have something I want to tell you.” Harry can’t take another moment of not having the blond as his. “I’ll understand if you want me to leave afterwards.” He’s serious.

Niall looks at him confused, “I’d never ask you to leave Harry. I’m here for you no matter what.” He gives him an encouraging smile.

Biting his lip and trying to draw courage now that he’s started the conversation, Harry takes a deep breath before blurting out: “I love you! I have been in love with you for a while now, even before ‘the night.’” He clams up again, gnawing hard enough on his bottom lip for it to bleed.

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. Niall blinks a few times. “You love me?” he tilts his head, furrowing his eyebrows. He doesn’t understand, Harry’s never given him any signs that he was into him that way. “I…I don’t know what to say. I mean I had no idea. I’m sorry for being so think.” He gives Harry a smile, reaching a hand to caress the brunette’s cheek.

Tears blur the blonds face; Harry doesn’t wipe them away as they track down his face. “You’re not upset?” emotions have made his voice thick.

“Never.” He breathes, his eyes focusing on Harry’s face, his thumb rubbing away the tears. “I just wish I knew sooner, could have saves you…” his own tears threaten to spill over. “I’m in love with you as well.”

Crying out, Harry crashes their lips together, arms drawing the Irishman in. He kisses Niall’s lips, cheeks, eyes. “Niall.” He breathes, unable to form anything else past his happiness.

Niall relaxes into the kiss, pressing the younger boy close to him. He can’t believe this is happening.

“I was so sure, “says the brunette, “So sure you’d hate me.” Harry rests his head on Niall’s shoulder. “You’ve always been there for me, I don’t deserve you.”

Shaking his head, Niall disagrees. “I’ll always be here for you…always. You’re my best friend. I could never hate you.” He runs his hand up and down Harry’s back. “I don’t deserve you. I should have known, I should have saved you…” he trials off.

Holding Niall’s hand, Harry kisses him slower, effectively shutting him up. He maps their lips with his tongue, gently asking entrance. Niall opens his mouth, letting Harry in, clutching the back of Harry’s shirt, pressing him against his body.

“Mmm… wanna see you,” Harry reaches under Niall’s shirt, fingers splaying against trembling skin, rubbing lower and lower.

Niall groans at the contact, feeling tingles throughout his skin. He runs his hand down Harry’s arm, nodding into the kiss as he pulls away only long enough to pull his shirt up and off. He attacks Harry’s lips once more with his own.

Running hands over bear flesh, Harry moans, teeth and tongue sliding across Niall’s jawline, farther down to his neck, nipping little marks. Closing his eyes at the touch, Niall clutches Harry’s hips, pulling into his lap.

Now straddling the blond, Harry wastes no time rocking their hips together. Moaning, he trails blunt nails down Irish skin, catching sensitive nipples. Taking a moment, the brunette takes his own shirt off. Niall opens his eyes, watching Harry strip. As Harry takes his shirt off, Niall’s unbuttoning and tugging his jeans from Harry’s hips. “So perfect.” He breathes.

Floundering a moment, Harry gets up to hurriedly take his pants off, pulling Niall’s pants off as well. Both naked, the brunette takes a moment to stare at pale flesh, feeling a bolt of lust through his stomach. “Niall.” He whispers, climbing back onto the Irishman’s lap, kissing him with passion.

Niall’s blue eyes have darkened as he reaches out to pull Harry closer, deepening the kiss. His finger trails down Harry’s back as he licks Harry’s bottom lip to gain entrance inside his mouth.

Opening his mouth, harry suck the other’s tongue inside, massaging it with his own. He reaches a hand between them, grasping both throbbing members together and jacking slowly. A low groan escapes Niall’s mouth, muffled by Harry’s latched onto his. His hand reaches lower, fingers dancing around the cleft of his ass as he continues to kiss Harry feverishly.

Harry moans into the kiss, grip tightening. He pulls back, panting in Niall’s mouth. “Do it.”

Niall looks at him a little helplessly, “Not sure what to do, I’ve never done this before. “ he admits, turning beat red. He’s been with girls, but Harry’s the first guy…ever.

Slowing down, Harry looks a bit worried. “This too much?” he wants to be sure this is what Niall wants. “I… we can slow down?”

“No, we’re fine. This is fine. God… I’ve been wanting this a long time.” He groans, thrusting his cock into Harry’s hand just to prove his point or something. “You’re just gonna have to tell me what to do.”

Nodding, Harry takes his free hand to grabs Niall’s. he slowly wraps his lips and tongue around two of the blonds fingers, sucking and wetting them. They come away shiny with spit. Guiding them back to his entrance, he kissing Niall, “One at a time, you’ll have to work them in, stretch me open.”

Circling the tip of his fingers around the puckered hole, Niall pushes in a digit slowly, moving it around just as slowly. He’s biting his lower lip as he watches Harry’s facial expressions for any indication that he’s doing this wrong.

Eyelashes flutter against cheeks, Harry moans, nodding his head. “Feels good,“ he presses their foreheads together, “Keep going,” he encourages.

Niall keeps his eyes locked on Harry’s as he continues to plunge his fingers deeper into Harry, working him slowly open. He leans forward to capture Harry’s lips with his own before pulling back to rest his forehead back against Harry’s.

Body twitching, Harry moans and wraps arms around Niall to draw him closer. He tenses and jerks when the blond rubs along that sensitive bundle of nerves. “Niall!” he moans.

Harry’s moans go straight to his groin as he adds the second finger in, trying desperately to hit that same spot once again inside Harry. Harry rocks his hips harder, taking Niall’s fingers deeper. He nibbles along the blonds neck, biting down when pleasure sparks again.

Niall continues like he’s been requested to do, sliding his fingers deeper as he positions Harry for more leverage. “Nng!” Harry moans, “Niall! So ready! Want you in me!” he begs, fisting the blonds leaking member.

Groans escape Niall’s mouth as Harry’s hand twists on his dick. He buries his face in Harry’s shoulder as he continues to finger fuck, unsure of what to do next. Harry strokes down Niall’s arm, “It’s okay baby. I got you.” He kisses across the blonds neck and face. He eases Niall’s fingers out of himself. Moaning, Harry positions himself, then slowly slides down, breathing out until Niall finally bottoms out.

Watching Harry as he slides down on top of him, Niall groans. It’s tight and so many feelings and tingles going through his body all at once, he’s not sure he’s going to last long. “Harry.” He breathes, clutching at Harry’s hips.

Harry breathes through the burn until he’s filled to the hilt. He kisses Niall deeply before pulling back to say “Move your hips.” Nodding, Niall starts to snap his hips upwards, going in and out of Harry slowly, his fingernails clawing at bare skin. Harry moans, shaking with the pleasure. “Niall! Fuck…yeah… right there! Oh!” Harry moves, meeting the Irishman thrust for thrust.

Niall pumps into Harry as he leans up to search for lips. Once he finds them, he latches on to them as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Tongues wrestle for dominance. Harry’s never felt so good before. He finally has the one person he’s always wanted. “Niall,” he moans into the kiss.

Kissing Harry, he moves, laying him down on his back as Niall keeps himself inside as best as possible. Once he can look down at Harry, he starts to thrust into him again at the new angle. He groans at the tightness. Harry nearly comes of the couch as pleasure rips through him. Screaming, back bowed, he wraps legs around the blonds waist, urging him on.

Niall’s cock slides in and out of Harry, the friction becoming too much for him. “I’m going to cum…” he warns, searching out Harry’s eyes.

Lust blown green meets blue, “Fuck, yeah! Wanna feel it, so close! Touch me!” he cries out, hands gripping onto the Irishman. At Harry’s words, he slides his hand between them fisting Harry as he continues to thrust inside him. Harry’s toes curl, his whole body fallowing suit as he cums, spunk painting both of them. “Niall,” he breathes.

When Harry says his name, that is it. Niall spills himself all into Harry, leaning down to press their bodies together not caring about the mess. “That was amazing.” He breathes after a moment of trying to get his mind to catch up to his body.

Moaning, Harry agrees, “We should do this more… a lot more.” He wiggles, “As much as possible.”

Niall chuckles, holding the younger boy close. “Yes, I’m sure we can arrange that.”

Leaning up a bit, harry kisses Niall. “I love you.” Looking deep into blue, he turns serious. “I would have killed myself if it weren’t for you. Thank you for being my everything.”

He’s a little taken back with this information, but he smiles, “I love you too, but I don’t want to ever hear that again. You’re amazing.” He clutches Harry tightly.

Harry settles into the embrace. It had been a long hard road for the both of them. Smiling, he takes his life in both arms, holding him close.


End file.
